Monday, July 04, 2005
Ev'rybody's talkin' 'bout
TOM CRUISE!!!!
I liked you as The Vampire Lestat, but even that cannot redeem you now, bastard!
The fact that you jump around like a sick monkey with your little girlfriend is no business of mine, even though it's annoying and I've seen Nicole Kidman in person and she's goregeous and I have no idea why you left her (only I'm willing to bet it has something to do with Scientiology and maybe she got sick of the aliens)
But, Tom, listen, Tom, you know NOTHING about postpartum depression. When's the last time you give birth, asshole? Oh I forgot...you're a man! YOU CAN'T! So you CAN'T possibly know what it's like to feel like after squeezing a seven pound human being out of your freshly-cut anus and then having to go home and be totally overwhelmed with the realization that you can't fuck this up and having all of the hormones that were building in your system for nine months suddenly come rushing out of you. You've never woken up with a brand-new body type and I doubt you've gotten up every hour on the dot and cried with your colicky newborn that you have no idea what to do with. I doubt you know the kind of love that a woman feels for her newborn, so much that it hurts and your breasts are leaking and you have to sit on a rubber ring like some geriatric deflated whale. Speaking of breasts, did yours sag? Mine sure did. My ass got wider, too. How 'bout yours? I could go on and on, but you get the idea. Or perhaps you don't. Guess you were too busy getting your medical degree or communicating with aliens to stick your own foot in your mouth. Without the medication I was prescribed, I would have not been able to get out of bed and care for myself, let alone my infant son. SO I say FUCK YOU! Go fuck yourself.
I feel so much better now.
I liked you as The Vampire Lestat, but even that cannot redeem you now, bastard!
The fact that you jump around like a sick monkey with your little girlfriend is no business of mine, even though it's annoying and I've seen Nicole Kidman in person and she's goregeous and I have no idea why you left her (only I'm willing to bet it has something to do with Scientiology and maybe she got sick of the aliens)
But, Tom, listen, Tom, you know NOTHING about postpartum depression. When's the last time you give birth, asshole? Oh I forgot...you're a man! YOU CAN'T! So you CAN'T possibly know what it's like to feel like after squeezing a seven pound human being out of your freshly-cut anus and then having to go home and be totally overwhelmed with the realization that you can't fuck this up and having all of the hormones that were building in your system for nine months suddenly come rushing out of you. You've never woken up with a brand-new body type and I doubt you've gotten up every hour on the dot and cried with your colicky newborn that you have no idea what to do with. I doubt you know the kind of love that a woman feels for her newborn, so much that it hurts and your breasts are leaking and you have to sit on a rubber ring like some geriatric deflated whale. Speaking of breasts, did yours sag? Mine sure did. My ass got wider, too. How 'bout yours? I could go on and on, but you get the idea. Or perhaps you don't. Guess you were too busy getting your medical degree or communicating with aliens to stick your own foot in your mouth. Without the medication I was prescribed, I would have not been able to get out of bed and care for myself, let alone my infant son. SO I say FUCK YOU! Go fuck yourself.
I feel so much better now.
# posted by Christa @ 7:00 PM 
